


Wedding Night

by OhNoHello



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Face-Sitting, Fluff and Smut, Multiple Orgasms, Porn with Feelings, Wall Sex, Wedding Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:20:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28089921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhNoHello/pseuds/OhNoHello
Summary: The nervous and anticipation of the night had grown on the newly wedded couple. Pomp had weighed heavy on them as they went through the motions. The slow promenade to stand beside one another. The soft vows spilled between them, the exchange of rings. The procession where they greeted every single last one of their guests, the reception where they danced and were the center of attention (regrettable or not).And then they were alone.Another giggle passed between them, another furtive glance. Steps picked up, the pace quickened. Hands clasped together, swinging in time with their curious stumbling. Bodies slid closer together, arms entwined, until finally wound around one another.Until finally he leaned down to scoop his wife in his arms and crash into her with a crushing kiss.
Relationships: Raphael Kirsten/Bernadetta von Varley
Comments: 3
Kudos: 23





	Wedding Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [deleiterious](https://archiveofourown.org/users/deleiterious/gifts).



> Just a little bit of RaphBernie for deleiterious <3

Heels clacked in careful steps as they walked side by side down the hall. Gentle tired nervous titters passed between the two of them. The heat between glances built and built as they spared glances. 

The nervous and anticipation of the night had grown on the newly wedded couple. Pomp had weighed heavy on them as they went through the motions. The slow promenade to stand beside one another. The soft vows spilled between them, the exchange of rings. The procession where they greeted every single last one of their guests, the reception where they danced and were the center of attention (regrettable or not). 

And then they were alone. 

Another giggle passed between them, another furtive glance. Steps picked up, the pace quickened. Hands clasped together, swinging in time with their curious stumbling. Bodies slid closer together, arms entwined, until finally wound around one another. 

Until finally he leaned down to scoop his wife in his arms and crash into her with a crushing kiss. 

The door nearly broke off its hinges. Wood creaked and splintered as it slapped against the chamber wall. The violence of it went unnoticed by its perpetrators. 

Bernadetta stumbled backwards as she was half guided, half shoved into her new bedroom. Not the sweeping room she had as a girl, but the grandiose room built for two. Especially to house the gargantuan titan of a man she married. 

Raphael drove the charge into their wedding chambers, simultaneously holding his wife up and pushing her over. He would never let her fall, he'd always be there to catch her. He had just made those vows after all. But the ceremony had been so long, sitting next to Bernie, holding her hand, watching her smile and laugh and wear that beautiful cinch waisted dress. 

Raphael could only count the seconds and prayed his impatience didn't show. 

He'd never been good at subterfuge.

Bernadetta stumbled back and hit a chair. She yelped, a clipped short cry under bubbling laughter. The chair toppled over, clattering against the floor, the noise of it filled the room. Raphael caught his freshly wed wife, ensuring she didn't fall and meet the same fate as the chair. In one fluid movement, Bernadetta gripped her husband by the lapels and yanked him back into their frantic kisses. Both of them just as eager to meet each other in passion. 

Planning a wedding had been exhausting, but nothing compared to the ceremony itself. Getting to the altar, staring down the love of their lives, was terrifying. The reception should have sapped the last gasps of their energy, but as they both silently and jitterily approached the door to the bedroom they would share, a frantic amorous momentum overtook the newlyweds. Within the confines of their private quarters, all that remained burst free. 

Bernadetta's back hit the armoire and it rattled from the force of Raphael descending over her. Her head tilted at a comical angle to meet his eager lips. Every gasp of air had a high pitched wheeze of desperation between sloppy kisses. She clawed, pulled at the lapels of his perpetually too tight jacket, simultaneously trying to rid him of it and pull him closer. She managed to eke free a giggle as he attacked her lips again. 

The door shut closed behind them. 

Draped in darkness, no more eyes to see them, no more airs to put on, Raphael became the creature of hunger Bernadetta knew him to be. He scooped his wife off the ground, lifting her by the backs of her thighs and pounds upon pounds of wedding dress. He pressed her up against the armoire. Bernadetta's head rattled as she was bucked against it and she barely managed to squeak before Raphael was kissing her once more. The armoire door swung open slowly, it's hinges wailing like a ghost and drowning out Bernadetta's groans. 

She had seem him fidgeting all night long. Sidelong glances she spared her freshly wedded husband were filled with equal amounts of heat, although she had the good sense to look away and blush. Secret smiles passed between them, each one filled with the lingering love they had for one another. 

"Raph–" Bernadetta tried to talk between eager kisses. "Raphael." 

The big man whimpered, his fingers dug into lace and satin, the fabric crinkling under his grip. Bernadetta dug her heels into his back. 

"Raphael," Bernadetta gasped again. "I. . . I w-want. . . "

Unable to keep fully occupied, Raphael titled his head to continue the assault down Bernadetta's neck. His focus was so preoccupied he didn't notice the slip of the woman in his arms. Satin far too slick for him to get a good grip onto. Bernadetta slipped through his hands, but Raphael was quick to recatch her. She yelped, the sound of it caught in her throat as Raphael hefted her in his arms. 

"Bernie!" he yelped back. "Are you okay?" 

Wide eyed from the brief jolt of terror, Bernadetta acclimated. She puffed out a pout and glared up at her husband. 

He lifted Bernadetta once again, pulling her high to his chest, and carried her to the desk in the far corner, where he safely deposited his wife. Hungry to meet her again, he moved in to resume his onslaught. He leaned in, meeting her mouth in furious kisses, and Bernadetta could only keep up. HIs large body slid between her legs, forcing her wide and open. Big hands wrapped around her thighs and he pushed the multitudinous skirts higher and her in an effort to move close. 

Bernadetta gasped for air and Raphael tilted his head to move down her neck. He licked trails of love down the column, kissing her skin in short praises. 

“Raphael,” Bernadetta breathed. 

Another kiss to the crook of her neck. Another to her clavicle. Another to the dip of her breasts. 

Raphael dropped to his knees. 

He clambered under the layers of dress, hiding his face under the lace and silk, climbing deeper and deeper, up the short length of Bernadetta's legs. He found the top of stockings and traced the floral caps with his tongue.

Raphael pressed a thick tongue to the front of lace panties. He dragged it up, fully intending to go slow, but eagerness overcame him. He managed one lap before pulling aside the delicate fabric, going too fast and too eager, and ripping the lace in two. 

"Oh!" he said. "Bernie I–"

“It-its okay!” she gasped. “Its okay, please Raphael, just please!” 

He lapped at her heat, between the folds, drinking her up with gusto. In the darkness, he found her clit. He flicked the bud with his tongue, suckled on it. With every ounce of care that he had, he gently nipped the sensitive clit. 

Bernadetta screamed, holding his head in place. 

"Raphael," she called out into the room. "Raphael! Please, more please!" 

His knees hurt against the floor, but he obeyed. Thick fingers found her folds and kissed her lips. Wet and slick, it was simple to push his fingers inside. 

Raphael worked her over like a man starved. He ate what he was given and then ate some more. His fingers pumped in and out of her, scissored inside her, curled to find the soft parts that built upon her passions and made her sing. The space was confined and the angle in which Raphael had to hold his hand cramped his arm. Still he loved and obeyed his wife. 

Bernadetta worked her hips, gyrating them against his face. Her head rocked back and she groaned. The sound of it was far too loud for her liking and she smacked a hand over her mouth to silence any further noise. Unable to stop, Bernadetta slid further and further down the desk, closer and closer to the edge. Her dress bunched up under her ass. She was far too lost in pleasure to realize how close she was coming. 

Until she slid off. 

A muffled yelp and the pull of gravity dragged her down, but Raphael was quick to react. Thick hands caught her, his head tenting up the fabric of the dress. Together, they sat entwined like that. Bernadetta’s legs folded over his shoulders and her body bent in half. Her wedding gown folded and bunched where Raphael’s head distorted it, where his hands held her. A delicate shoe fell off her foot. 

Raphael was the first to laugh, climbing out from under the gown. Still muffled by her hand, Bernadetta joined him and giggled nervously. Despite the sheen on his lip, Bernadetta was always glad to receive kisses from him. 

Raphael propped himself up on one knee, hefting Bernadetta with him. She yelped again, clamping her hands on his shoulders. 

“R-raphael?” she asked. 

“Hold on tight Bernie.” 

He rose to his feet, carrying his wife. She wound her legs around him, no small feat in that heavy gown. He carried her not to the bed, but to the wall, too needy to make it across the room. Bernadetta’s back hit the wall and with a bit of finagling between them, Raphael managed to find her cunt in the dark. 

Bernadetta moaned, not having the wherewithal to cover her mouth this time. She clung to her husband’s shoulders, her fingernails digging into the fabric. 

A second shoe hit the ground. 

Raphael bucked up into her. Once. Then twice. Until he found just the right angle, just the right rhythm. He held Bernadetta up, he dropped her down, he thrust his hips to meet her. She bounced and with every drop her dress rustled like a bush in a storm. 

“Ah!” Bernadetta called. “Ah! Ah! Raphael!” 

Her hands clawed into the back of his neck and into his hair. Her eyes went cross and rolled back in her head. Mouth open wide and singing. 

“Fuck!” she squeaked and once again slapped a hand over her mouth in shame. 

Raphael laughed, breathless and hearty, and leaned in close enough to rest her head against his own. She folded in half, the dress bunching up her thighs, against her bodice, stuffed against her hips. 

“I like it when you talk like that Bernie,” he whispered, hushed against her lips. 

Bernadetta shook from the sheer pleasure, from the pound of his cock, from the strain in her legs. She smiled behind her hand and pulled it away from her lips. 

“Fuck,” she said quietly. 

“Yes,” Raphael hissed. 

She bounced on his dick, her hair coming down from its updo, pins clinking to the ground. Her hair rubbed up and down the wall with every thrust. Her back thudded in time. Every drop, every rise, Bernadetta hit the lath and plaster. 

“Fuck me,” she panted. “Fuck me. Fuck me harder.” 

Raphael whined, the language affecting him more than he could say. The pads of his fingers dug into Bernadetta, leaving lace shaped indents pressed into her thighs. He bared his teeth, teetering close to the edge. Grunts, the steady beat of Raphael’s thrusts, the shifting of multiple layers of dress, all of it a familiar but all too new song at once. 

Raphael hit home hard and froze, holding it for as long as he could, greedy to make their coupling last. He hunched over his tiny wife, pressing her fully against the wall. He didn’t want this to end, he never wanted this connection to stop. He tried to hold on, to make this last as long as possible, every single time. But in the end it was futile. Ultimately, he succumbed. He barked out a short cry and came into her, twitching and spilling and filling her up. Bernadetta’s nails clawed through his hair, scratching at his scalp.

When the violence of orgasm had ended, Raphael let out a soft sigh and slumped over Bernadetta. His hold on her slackened and she began to fall. 

“Raphael,” she said, sternly. “Raphael, put me down.” 

“Oh.” 

Raphael placed his wife gently to the ground and the tiny woman became dwarfed in his shadow, even in the dark of their room. 

“I’m not. . .” she stuttered, swallowed, and started again with more confidence. “I’m not done.” 

Raphael blinked sleepily, one eye at a time. 

“I need you to finish me,” she said with a stern nod. “That is. . . if you will.” 

“Of course!” Raphael boomed and the guards down the hall probably heard him, if they hadn’t already heard too much. 

“Good,” she said with another nod. And when he didn’t move, “Now!” 

“O-oh!” 

Raphael did a little hop in place and went to move his wife to the bed. He stopped, hands on her waist, and glared down at the cumbersome garment she wore. Instead, he spun her around and began fumbling at the ties down her back. 

“Damn this thing,” he grumbled, his thick fingers not designed for the delicate dexterity that the bodice demanded. 

“J-just rip it,” Bernadetta stuttered, as if she were unsure. 

Unsure or not, Raphael didn’t question his wife. He shoved his hands under her bodice, under her sleeves, and in one great pull, he tore the dress asunder. Bernadetta rocked forward with a gasp, getting air into her lungs. She pulled at her sleeves, just as eager to be free as Raphael was to be in. Naked and not halting the momentum, she spun back around and gave Raphael the same freedom he provided her. She lacked his strength, but gumption made up for it, and she scrambled as she ripped apart his buttons. Chest bare for her liking, Bernadetta raked her nails down his skin, fingers tangling in his hair. Possessiveness fueled her and she looked up to the man that was all hers. 

Free of the wedding gown and his suit, Raphael picked up where he left off and threw his wife to the bed like a rag doll. Bernadetta bounced in the cushions, but before she could acclimate, the mountain of a man was climbing over her. Still tasting of her unique flavor, he met her eager lips and hungry tongue. 

She fell into the romance of the kiss. It would all be so simple to trod down that path. To hold one another, find their usual comfort in each other’s embrace, but it was not what she had demanded. 

Bernadetta pushed Raphael. There was no moving the man, not in battle, not in bed, but he moved for Bernadetta. He fell back to the bed just as if she had thrown him. 

Dressed in nothing but torn underwear and stockings, she climbed over him. A leg on either side of his face, but it was Raphael who dove in. He gripped her ass, a hand on each plump cheek, and pulled her down to meet his mouth. Despite his spunk still dripping down her thighs, he resumed his gusto from earlier in the evening. 

Bernadetta grabbed a fistful of golden curls. She closed her eyes, feeling his fat tongue fuck her like a dick. She groaned and moaned and rode his face. 

“Oh goddess,” she breathed, her voice going up in pitch. “I want this to last, you’re too. . . it feels too. . .” 

Raphael kneaded her ass, feeling the flesh and worshiping her. He disregarded the wet rolling down his chin, taking it and Bernadetta’s whimpers as all the encouragement he would need. 

Her back bent. Her toes curled. She ground her mound down onto Raphael until his nose buried in her short hairs. Her fist coiled so tight it might have pulled some strands from Raphael’s scalp. 

The noise she made was nothing more than a quick gasp. A soft, high ‘oh!’ A little song that clogged in her throat. 

First, her thighs shivered. Then her body jolted as lightning shot through her. At the top of a high hill, staring down the slope, just before she tilted forward and fell. 

Bernadetta called out like a song. Her back hunched over Raphael’s face, his tongue still working her over. Still digging inside, still circling her clit, rearing her with overstimulation. Thighs quivered, the ample flesh of them clamped down on Raphael’s face, squeezing his cheeks. She ran her hands like claws over his head and pushed down hard to take the thrashing he gave her. There were no words, only a want and a hunger and a need. 

Bernadetta collapsed in a heap, falling to the side and letting her leg drape heavy across Raphael’s chest. Her chest pumped as she tried to catch her breath, eyes still closed and lights dancing behind her lids. She still held limply to his hair, petting back sweat soaked strands that clung to his forehead. 

Raphael gurgled against the weight of the leg that crept higher and threatened his throat. 

“Hm?” she asked, lifting her head sleepily. “Oh.” 

She crawled off her husband and lay next to his side, curling up into his heat. 

Her husband. 

It began to sink in. The party was over, the ceremony was done, the excitement began to die down and reality set in. The son of a merchant family lay in Bernadetta’s bed and was to be a lord at her side. She stroked back his hair and he looked down at her with loving kindness and even in the dark she could see the glint of his pale eyes. That they would share this forever, have each other until the bitter end and then some. 

Raphael gently wrapped his hand around her wrist, encapsulating it. So much larger than her own hands, he could’ve swallowed her whole. His thumb traced the tendons of her wrist, warming her with slow strokes. He leaned to the side and she pushed higher up the bed to meet his lips. 

Gently, slowly, he edged Bernadetta’s hand down his chest. Her fingers fumbled across his skin, questioning where he was headed. Answers were given when she wrapped her hand around the thick stalk of his erect cock. 

Bernadetta pulled away from the kiss with a quick smack. Her eyes were large and wide, looking up at her husband with shock and awe. 

“I. . .” he fumbled as her hand did, looking sheepish. “You make me so. . .” 

The warmth of their marriage shifted. This one was different. It wasn’t the heightened exhilaration of freshly newlyweds fumbling to their marriage bed. This was whole. This was a true consummation. 

A slow soft smile spread across Bernadetta’s face. Her hand picked up where Raphael had guided her, stroking his shaft to full and proud. He let her, his hand slipping away, and lingering on the ring on her finger. 

“Take me then,” she whispered. 

He didn’t need much more convincing than that. 

Raphael rolled over, hovering over his wife. His whole body tented over her like a structure in of itself. On all fours, only the ends of her legs poking out from between his. She coiled in on herself coyly, hands to her chest. The shy girl she once was when they had first met and not the vixen who had only just been calling out his name. Raphael cupped her cheek and ran his hand down her neck, over her arms, convincing them to the side. 

“Take me,” she whispered again, as if frightened to break the stillness of the moment. 

Raphael kicked off his pants, unable to control his excitement, but still living in that space where he stared at Bernadetta and only Bernadetta. He struggled around his tight calves before shaking them off to the floor next to his ruined shirt and jacket. 

Bernadetta moved like liquid gold. She slid one leg to the side, up and around Raphael’s knee. Then the other. Spread open for him to see what he had already been so intimate with. Raphael moved in closer, scooching by fragments. He slid a hand under her delicate body, to the small of her back, and lifted her off the bed. Hands by her head, Bernadetta looked down to the place where their bodies almost met. One hand holding her still, Raphael used the other to guide his cock back home. 

It was simple. It slid in with no friction. Puzzle pieces that matched up, despite the size. 

They moved as one. Bernadetta lifted her hips to meet him, Raphael rocked back into her. A single well known fluid movement. The slow beginnings to a dance they memorized the steps to long before they were wed. 

Raphael swelled. He shifted from the soft rock of his hips to best meet his wife, moving into a deeper thrust. Just as slow, just as deliberate, but finding more range of motion to better suit his needs. She lifted off the bed in time with his hips, her back arching and her shoulders pressed to the mattress. She breathed in a deep gasp, not daring to look away, not daring to blink. 

“Raphael,” she whispered. “Use me.” 

Such words from his wife. He sat up and moonlight danced over her naked form. A slim pale body, perfect and shapely, that Raphael could not help but adore. His large hands coiled around her slim hips and he thrust hard enough to jolt her up the bed. She squeaked and gripped the sheets. 

“Yes,” she encouraged. “Yes, just like that.” 

Bernadetta drew her legs back, tightening her knees around the thick body between them. She squeezed and from his whimper she knew he felt it around his pounding dick. 

“Bernie,” he whined. “Bernie, you’re so pretty.” 

“Show me how pretty I am,” she gasped. 

How dare she say such things. 

Raphael leaned forward, pressing a hard hand to the mattress by her head. He lifted her hips off the bed, her ass nestled in his palm. He pushed against the bed, against the sheets, his knees driving into the mattress, up on the balls of his feet. Until their gasps became one, until they were close enough to breathe each other’s air. 

“I love you,” Raphael whispered against her lips. 

Bernadetta whined and wrapped her arms around his neck. Again came that telltale carry up the hill, the stilting hold of breath that she teetered on. Another swift, powerful thrust of his dick, hitting and rubbing against all the right spots, and Bernadetta came. Her twitching cunt, the cry in his ear, it was all too much for Raphael. 

“I love you too,” she sobbed and kissed his cheek, still riding her orgasm. 

With nothing more than a whine, Raphael came. He bucked into her like an animal, holding her tight and close. He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her off the bed, going up on his knees as once again he filled her up. The hold was too tight, too crushing. A lesser woman would have broken in his arms. But not Bernadetta. She only held on just as tight, just as fierce. 

Both of them never wanting to let go. 

When it was over, Raphael collapsed to the bed. His knees gave out and he fell on top of his wife. She squeaked under his weight and he jumped almost immediately. 

“I’m sorry,” he called out, but she snatched him back down. 

Still braced over her petite body, Raphael could only hold still as his wife held him in place. Bernadetta’s legs still clamped around him, keeping him locked inside her, keeping them connected. Her arms strained to wrap around his shoulders and somehow she managed. 

“Bernie,” he whispered in her ear. 

Bernadetta conceded and the big man rolled off her to his side. The bed whumped under his weight, the mattress groaned, and Bernadetta bounced. She rolled on her side to look him in the eye, shifting closer to entwine her legs with his gargantuan tree trunks. She trailed a hand down his face and he returned in kind. 

Raphael reached over her and grabbed the edge of the blanket. He cocooned the both of them in its warmth, both of them far too spent and lazy to crawl underneath. Wrapped up and pressed tightly against each other, they drifted into sleep. 

Dreaming of a blissfully wedded future.

**Author's Note:**

> Twitter: [OhNo_Hello](https://twitter.com/OhNo_Hello)  
> Tumblr: [ScrumpyLikesThings](https://scrumpylikesthings.tumblr.com/)


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